Left 4 Dead: A Monster's Account
by Irish-Ninja
Summary: Jake Delwin is hiding from a life of atrocities. He rejoins society just in time to witness a horrible infection changing life as he remembered it. Can Jake find a way to regain his humanity in a world where humanity is disappearing?
1. Prologue

**Left 4 Dead: A Monster's Account**

**Prologue**  
I'd been under the radar for roughly three months, hiding out in a shitty cabin out in the middle of nowhere with only trees and hills for at least a mile right around me. It was late March when I came out there with nothing but a beat up SUV, three coolers full of food, a few cases of water, a bunch of guns and 15 million dollars.

It was supposed to be a straightforward bank job; three of us would lay low in those hills after the job, split the money three ways, and then get the hell out of the country.

I don't know when everything got fucked up, all I know is it did.

Some civilian, some guy trying to be a hero, he pulled out a gun as we were leaving the bank. No one was supposed to get hurt and no one did until that asshole went and fucked it all up for us. He hit John, that's when Rick shot back. Next thing I know we're raking the place with bullets, God, those screams echoed in my ears for weeks. I threw the bags I could grab into the van and got in, I didn't even check if the guys were still alive, all I knew was they were both hit and I got the hell out of there.

No cops had come by though, so I guess it's safe to assume they were both dead; those assholes would sell me out in a second after I left them for dead. In retrospect I was an idiot to still hide at the chosen spot, but adrenaline mutes your common sense.

Once the money was hidden in its spot, buried under the floorboards of the cabin, I had to disappear completely. Three months is a pretty good amount of time for the media to forget about a robbery and a couple dozen murders... God that word still makes me feel sick to my stomach. I'd never killed anyone before that day, I was a thief yes but never would I have thought I'd become a murderer.

I would check on the car radio now and again, noting that police were still looking for a skinny man with chin length brown hair and green eyes. Great thing about modern convenience, a few bucks can totally change your appearance. I tossed the green tinted contact lenses and shaved off my dyed brown hair, which has since grown back in its natural blond. As far as the skinny part, one would be surprised how much your body changes when the only source of entertainment you have at your disposal is doing pushups and jackknifes; throw in a pair of sleeve tattoos, a barbell in the eyebrow and a pleat in each ear... it's not like I didn't have the money... and you have a whole new man you're looking for.

I used to be Tom Jenson, but with some work from a contact equally as shady as my failed thief companions and myself, creating a new alias is hardly difficult. I'm called Jake Delwin now.

Time has passed, I'm no longer the man the cops are looking for, now it's time for me to rejoin civilization.


	2. Chapter 1: Timmins Wharf

**Chapter one: Timmins Wharf**  
The wharf is a small logging community about 15 miles from Trigg, the city we robbed, and not even two miles from where I'd been hiding the last three months. First item of business, get a motel room somewhere and take a shower, I smelled like shit wrapped in old socks; after that I would contact my people who would distribute my bounty through a multitude of fake bank accounts, GICs, RRSPs and so on and so forth.

Imagine my surprise as I came to town and found it was deserted.

Don't get me wrong, Timmins Wharf is already in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, but there are still people out in the middle of the day. I didn't even acknowledge it at the time, hell I didn't even start putting the pieces together until I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. Being more self conscious about how bad I must have smelled from three months of rustic life, I didn't even noticed the doors and windows boarded up until I reached for the doorknob.  
"What the hell?" I remember saying out loud. I looked around me and saw everything was boarded up. I reminded myself that I'd been isolated for months with only a radio in the van; the batteries of my cell phone died after the first week so really I had had little to no contact with the outside world with the exception of when I would come down for necessities and my modifications I did to my body. I peered in through what little of the window wasn't covered... why, I don't know, I guess I just wanted to know for sure that the place was deserted. I walked to the first doorway on the left, pulled off the boards and kicked in the door. I closed it back up and put the locks on, then proceeded to the bathroom. The lights still worked, as did the water, so when the staff left they must have been in a hurry if they couldn't even turn off the utilities.

After what was inarguably the longest shower I'd ever taken and some maintenance of my newly acquired beard, my next stop was to find some new clothes that would fit me. I remember chuckling to myself as I broke into clothing stores and helped myself to their wares, thinking what was the point of having millions, when it seemed everything in town was free for the taking.

I was so stupid for not seeing the writing on the wall, and I finally clued in that something bad must have happened when I broke into two stores that were all but empty. A local grocery store, and Marv's gun shop. On the counter at Marv's was a single automatic pistol, a few clips, and a note. The note read "If you're reading this, sorry about your luck. Hope this gets you somewhere safe."


	3. Chapter 2: Destination: Rittina

**Chapter two: Destination: Rittina**  
I can't believe it took me that long to figure out something huge must have gone down. I remember walking quickly back to the van, unsure what exactly I was in such a hurry to get away from, but the sooner the better. I decided to head to Rittina, another town not too far from Timmins Wharf, and try to get some answers.

I was getting paranoid as I drove along the emptied roads. True, I didn't look at all like the man the cops might still be looking for, but if some kind of emergency was still in effect, and cops decided to search my vehicle and found all this money and the guns... I tried to convince myself I was overreacting, but that only got my imagination running wilder; I even began to worry I might have stolen clothes too nice, no one dressed in the name brands I was wearing would be driving a beater like the van I was in.

That's when it ran out in front of the van.

I wasn't even paying attention until it was too late. I saw the left arm go flailing away. I panicked worse now; I hit someone, I hit someone so fucking hard that his arm flew off. I grabbed the automatic pistol and got out of the van immediately, glancing around frantically for witnesses; there were none. It would be easy, all I had to do, if the guy was still alive, was put a bullet in his head, get back in the van and drive off. The rain would take care of the blood on the grill of the van, and I was already a murderer, I would be just fine, no harm no foul.

I got to the front of the van and found no one was there, the arm was there, but no body. I crouched down to look under the van, still nothing. There was no trail of blood, and once I thought about it later, the arm wasn't bleeding either, but right then and there I was panicking.

Then came the most spine-chilling scream I'd ever heard in my life.

The guy I'd hit, he was across the street, crouched down like an animal ready to pounce.  
"Hey!" I called to him, hiding my gun in my pocket. "I didn't see you there! C'mon I'll get you to a hospital." All I wanted was for him to come closer so I could shoot him easier and get out of there. The scream came again, it was coming from him. Time seemed to stop and my blood froze; no human should be able to make a sound like that. Then he dove at me... no, he didn't dive, he leaped, like a cat. My senses couldn't have cut it any closer to return, I lifted the automatic pistol and squeezed the trigger until there was nothing left in the clip. The guy fell dead at my feet, I would have pissed my pants if I wasn't too busy getting back in the damn van.

No sooner had I slammed the door then I saw more people finally appearing. They weren't right though, their faces, the way they walked, they looked like they were dead. At the time... at the time I tried to convince myself I was being silly. Zombies don't exist, right? There had to be a viable explanation for this. They began to turn their attention to me, empty eyes staring at me.

Then they ran.

They ran at the van. My God how they ran. I didn't think twice I floored the gas and ploughed right over the poor guy I gunned down. I smashed through them with no difficulty, steel tearing through flesh and bone with almost too much ease. I didn't look back, I couldn't, I was too terrified.

I got about a half mile away from the wharf and pulled over. I opened the door of the van and stumbled out, my legs too jellied to support my weight.

And there I stayed for five minutes, crumpled at the side of the road crying and puking into a ditch.


	4. Chapter 3: Rittina

**Chapter three: Rittina  
**I didn't want to stop, but I needed gas. With the needle flirting with E, I pulled into a Busy B gas station; only to find the place boarded up.

I'd already stolen so much, what was some gas? But the people here must have had more time to flee than those in Timmins Wharf, as the pumps were all shut down.

And there I was, stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Still my mind went to the money, the fucking money that got me into this mess in the first place. I took a roadside shovel from the van and dug behind the gas station, out a ways in the trees. I went back to the van, grabbed the cases with the money, and buried them. With my greed sated, I loaded every one of our guns I could carry. I had a backpack full of weapons and a pistol in every pocket I could fit one into.

The nearest major city was Mission Creek... at least 20 miles away.

It only seemed logical to skip these Podunk towns and get into real civilization and find out what the hell happened. I was in the shape to make the trek with little difficulty, but all the hardware I was carrying in regards to firearms weighed me down greatly, and running would only exhaust me quicker. I walked three blocks when a loud rapping on wood echoed through the street. Before I even finished jumping from the sound, I had a pistol in each hand. I looked around me but saw nothing moving. I stuck to the middle of the street, giving me time to see if anything would come at me. Just as I lowered my guard, a lone figure came sprinting out from between two buildings like a bat out of hell. He didn't even make it across the sidewalk before I filled him with two pistols worth of lead... okay well most missed but I still gunned him down and that's what mattered.

Then I heard the rapping again.

It was clearly a hand knocking on wood. I looked around me again while frantically reloading, and noticed a face in a window staring down at me. Before I even made out the features I opened fire again; the figure got down fast enough to save himself and, once I was done blowing holes in the boards over the window, he shouted down to me.  
"I'm not infected!" he screamed. I didn't call back, I just reloaded the pistols as quickly as I could. He slowly peeked up over the window's frame. He was alive alright, healthy skin, vibrant, terrified eyes; he wasn't one of those... things. "Come to the door, quick, I'll let you in."  
"Why should I trust you?" I shouted up, unsure why.  
"Buddy, I ain't the one firing guns at people, but if you wanna take your chances out there alone then be my guest." was his reply. He was right, right now any help would be better than none.  
"Okay, I'm coming over but I want to see your hands before I come in."  
"We don't have time for this bullshit now do you wanna get off the street or not?" I nodded to him and he disappeared from the window. I kept the guns up as I heard steel sliding on steel behind a thick steel door that had clearly been haphazardly thrown into place recently. The door opened with a painful creak and scraped along the floor of the building it led into. I walked in, guns still up, and he locked the door behind me.

He pulled a thin chain on the ceiling and a dim light bulb struggled to illuminate the room. I pointed both guns right at him, I had him dead shot.  
"Fuck will you stop pointing those things at me?!" he screamed in honest terror, whatever had happened here had unquestionably left him traumatized; I so badly wanted to just be civilized, but until I got answers, that was out of the question.  
"Talk. What happened?"  
"Please, just stop pointing those guns at me!"  
"I'm not pointing these anywhere else until you tell me what the fuck is going on here!" I remember screaming at him, unable to believe this was me talking; what happened to me? Was it so much time away from humanity? Was it my paranoia getting the best of me? Or was it just that, deep down, I think I was more frightened than he was?  
"I don't know! No one does! People just started turning into those things!"  
"Why haven't you turned?"  
"It doesn't effect everyone, just most people. They said on the radio that there's a two percent immunity rate, which is why so many people are turning. No one knows yet what caused it, but that doesn't really mean shit right now does it?" I paused, I don't know what else I was waiting for. Finally I relaxed and put the guns away.  
"What's this place?"  
"Safe house, people have been trying to set them up from place to place, city to city, almost like checkpoints. It gives you a chance to stop and breathe as you try and make your way to Mission."  
"Mission Creek?" I asked. Of course he meant Mission Creek, what else would he have meant? I always considered myself a smart guy, but in the last 24 hours I'd done a great job of making myself feel like an idiot.  
"Yeah, military's bunkered down there and they're evacuating civilians to more fortified areas. I was trying to get there myself, but the only weapon I had was a baseball bat." he gestured to a broken handle in the corner. "But that's not getting me any farther."

As I looked around the safe house walls, I felt so many things: anger, fear, pity... The walls were littered with messages to loved ones, saying where they were going and to meet them there, or simply pleading that they still be alive. Pictures were pinned on walls with names, birthdates, and another recent date next to it. More messages were scribbled on the walls, some giving advice of where to go, locations of other safe houses and weapons caches. Other messages were from religious folks, no doubt scared to the point of questioning their faith as they scribbled bible verses on the walls or declarations that the revelations were coming and repentance should be on all our minds. Then, of course, there were the messages from the heartless bastards who just enjoy other peoples' suffering. Messages like "You're all going to die", "They will make your death painful" and "Just kill yourself before they do".

Nice to know even during a zombie apocalypse that people can still be assholes.

"What's your name?" his question snapped me out of my trance. I nearly forgot myself and used my real name, but remembered that I was Jake Delwin now. "Well Jake, name's Steve Murrows." I nodded.  
"Why are you still here, Steve?"  
"I'm a photographer, thought I could take some pictures that would make me rich, so I put my daughter in a cab to Mission and stayed behind." I felt my eyes widen, good to know there was still some decency in me.  
"Have you heard from her? Did she make it?" Steve slouched against the wall, looking defeated. He pulled an IPhone from his pocket and looked like he was trying to not cry.  
"I haven't heard from her. I've texted and called but gotten no response from her." My stomach ached.  
"How long have you been here?"  
"Nine days." Steve blurted, his voice cracking from the tears he was struggling to keep back. He turned down to his IPhone again and tried to smile. "Zombie apocalypse, I guess there's not an app for that..." he tried to laugh, tried to cope with the grief that was undoubtedly overwhelming him. I looked through the barred windows, noticing the sun was setting.  
"I'm going to assume these assholes are tougher at night?" Steve shrugged.  
"From what I've heard, it sounds like they're same day or night." I nodded.  
"Then we'll sleep tonight but we leave tomorrow morning, at least in the daylight we'll see them coming."  
"Leave?" Steve actually looked confused.  
"Tomorrow we're getting you back to your daughter."


	5. Chapter 4: First Light

**Chapter four: First Light  
**Neither of us slept that night, to try and make him more comfortable, I had asked Steve if I could see the pictures he took, but he sighed and said he dropped his camera when he was running from a horde; cementing that his separation from his daughter was not only stupid, but for nothing.

As the sun peaked over the horizon, I moved the steel bar from the door, ready to head out. I paused and opened my backpack. Steve nervously looked at me, then looked scared again as I handed him a pistol.  
"We're in this together." I said to him, trying to sound as calm as I could, still unsure if he'd have my back, or shoot me in it as soon as it was turned. He finally took the pistol, then I reached into my backpack and felt sick as I gripped a handle. I revealed the submachine gun I had used during the bank job, and handed it to him. "In case things get hairy." was all I could say. He took it and looked at me.  
"Thank you." I only nodded and we pushed the door open. A small handful of infected were scattered about, hardly worth using our automatics. Steve was surprisingly efficient with the pistol, taking down the zombies much faster than I was. We spoke little, saving our breath for our brisk jog we were making down the main street of Rittina.

"Blakesfield isn't too far from here, we can hike along the highway, or we can take the train tracks."  
"Alright." I said, "What're the pros and cons?" I've watched enough movies to know each option had a benefit, but also a glaring flaw.  
"The highway is more round about, but it's nice and open so we can see them coming, plus there might be more people along the way. The tracks is directly straight but it goes right through the forests, leaving us walking blindly through a mile long corridor."  
"I'm going to assume from those descriptions, that you'd rather take the highway."  
"A lot can go wrong in just one mile."  
"Highway it is."

Had I known the fat fuck was so out of shape I would have taken my chances with the train tracks.

"Hold on." he wheezed, "Five minute breather." I know I was getting frustrated but I could have done better to hide it.  
"You just took a five minute breather five minutes ago!"  
"Hey!" he snapped, "Look at me, I'm a fat bastard. Obviously jogging isn't something I do that often, so sorry if I'm not up to par with you, ya skinny shit." I actually laughed. I think I needed to hear him call me "skinny shit" to finally break our ice. He finally started to laugh to, then stood up straight.  
"How far is this way?"  
"I dunno, about three miles?" I sighed a little but kept the smile on my face. "Regretting taking me along?" he asked. He made like it was friendly, but I could tell he was testing me.  
"Nah, you're a good shot." I could feel his smile even though I had my back to him, I looked over my shoulder. "Plus if we get attacked, I can run away while they're eating your ass." He laughed again, but then stopped when he saw my face didn't crack.  
"You're... you are joking right?"

That was when we heard the gunshot and both dropped right away.

"Yeah you better get down, you rotting motherfuckers! Get up again! I dare you!" The voice sounded more like it belonged to someone from a cheesie gang movie than an actual person.  
"Do we look like zombies?!" Steve shouted. Another shot rang out over us. I looked up and saw a van down the road, with a figure ducked behind it.  
"Steve, stay down." I called to him, and fired one shot at the opposite end of the van. A percussion of shots fired out over our heads, but nothing came close to us.

Then silence.

"You're out of shots, aren't you?" I called. Still no response. "If we come to you and don't eat you, will you believe we're not infected?" After a delay, the voice finally called back.  
"Come slowly, if you go any faster than a walk, I run."  
"You run, I shoot you through your leg." Steve shouted back, still clearly pissed off at being shot at.  
"He ain't kidding man! This guy's nuts!" I added, smiling to Steve.

The van was about 30 yards away, once we got there we found an African American man in a security uniform sitting on the ground, back against the van. He looked up at us with scared eyes and had lost the Boyz n the Hood edge to his voice.  
"Don't kill me, I'm just trying to get back to my wife and kids." I couldn't believe it, another person separated from their family.  
"What's your story?" Steve demanded in a calm firmness.  
"My names Josh Carter. I'm a security guard from Trigg. I sent my family out on a caravan to Mission while I had to stay behind and help evacuate the city."  
"Trigg's a hell of a way from here." I blurted, Josh nodded though.  
"We got dispatched to help in Rittina when shit got bad there." Steve laughed.  
"You're a rent-a-cop!" Josh looked angry at Steve. "I'm from Rittina, what the hell happened? We could have used you guys."  
"We got attacked." Josh snarled. "Some bigass infected, never seen anything like it before. Punched our van and sent it flying with one fist. I was thrown from the van, like most of our boys. While they stayed and fought though, I ran. I was gonna commandeer this van..." he smacked the side of the van he had used as cover, "but it was abandoned when I found it, battery's dead or something."  
"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?" I sighed. I gave Josh my hand and helped him to his feet. Like Steve, I burrowed into my bag and armed him with a pistol and a submachine gun to replace his spent firearm.  
"You're a civilian, where'd you get those weapons?"  
"Does it really matter right now?" was all I would answer, now was not the time to get into blowing my cover. Josh nodded.  
"Guess not, I got some heat in the back of this van to." He led us around and pulled open the back hatch to reveal some pistols, clips and a pump shotgun.  
"Mine." Steve said quickly as he grabbed the shotgun, "These pansy-ass peashooters, you can keep." Josh motioned for us to move, but I would not.  
"Wait. You said something about a big infected, big enough to send a van sailing, where is it now?"  
"Like I said man, I didn't stop and watch the show, I got my ass out of there. Where big ugly went after that I don't know, all I know is I haven't seen one of my boys since then, so they're likely in a pile somewhere pounded into hamburger. So forgive me for not knowing where it went."

And there I was, with two strangers in the middle of nowhere and homicidal zombies around, one of which big enough to mash us into pudding.


	6. Chapter 5: The Highway

**Chapter five: The Highway  
**"Two more miles." Steve announced as we walked by a sign stating his declaration; very polite of him to inform us in the event we were illiterate. Steve and Josh kept themselves occupied by talking about their lives, their families, their jobs and such; I fought my hardest to keep a straight face as Josh talked about being dispatched to First Loyalist Bank in Trigg after a bloody robbery that left 27 dead, two of which being a part of the robbery.  
"I heard about that." I piped in, I don't know why, maybe I thought I was proving to myself I could seem innocent; meanwhile the very weapon I used in that robbery was sitting in the back of a van half a mile down the road after being swapped for a shotgun. "There was a third guy though, right? Ever catch him?" Josh sneered.  
"Nah, never found the third guy. Some skinny-ass motherfucker with long hair. Fucking skids, thinking they're tough, yeah real tough gunning down civilians. Only upside about it was that the assholes got taken out by those civilians, kinda bittersweet justice, ya know?"  
"That is low, man." I agreed, "I can't believe those guys didn't tell the cops where that third asshole ran off to, if I was in their spot I would have sold my buddy out like that." I snapped my fingers and forced a chuckle, Steve also shared in the laugh. Josh smiled but shook his head.  
"Nah man, told you, those assholes died, cops didn't even get there in time to watch them die." That was the closure I needed. I nodded and said nothing else. "What about you?" Josh said after a few minutes. "Steve and I've been doing all the talking, what's your story? Brand name clothes, messy hair and those fucking tats and piercings, you're a musician, ain't ya?" I quickly agreed.  
"Is it that obvious?" I smiled as I said the words.

In honesty, I can only play the radio.

Whether it was serendipity or what, I had to go no further in my fabricated past, as from over a hill came a sprinting mass of gray, decaying figures.  
"Shit!" Steve screamed as we all turned to the horde. Without giving it a second thought, Josh and I unloaded our automatics into the rushing crowd. As bodies flailed and tumbled into the ground, the ground beneath us began to shake.  
"Oh fuck meeeee" Josh's voice cracked with fear.

I knew this could only mean one thing.

A hulking zombie appeared behind the first wave, thrashing them out of his way.  
"Spread out!" Josh screamed. "If he hits us all we're done for!" We fanned out and opened fire on the goliath, but he wasn't even slowing down. Steve pointed to an abandoned sedan nearby.  
"Get behind the car for cover!" he shouted as he ran for the vehicle. The monstrous infected ambled towards it on all fours like a gorilla and swung a mighty fist. The car went sailing towards us, narrowly missing Steve as he had only seconds ago been running towards it. "Fuck the car!" Steve quickly shouted, doing little damage from a distance with the shotgun.

I had a plan. In hindsight it was a stupid plan, but desperation makes us do stupid things.

"Do either of you smoke?" I screamed over the ruckus.  
"Now is not the time for a nic-fit!" Josh screamed back to me, but Steve produced a lighter from his pocket and tossed it my way.  
"Buy me a few seconds!" was all I could say over the chaos. I ran for the car, now upside down on its roof. I threw off my recently stolen leather jacket and tore a sleeve off my shirt. The gas cap thankfully came off with great ease and I jammed the wadded sleeve into the nozzle input, watching gas fill the cloth as it ran down the gas line. "Lead him this way!" They wasted no time obliging me as they stopped firing and sprinted towards me and the car; Steve did a great job of not running out of breath this time around. As soon as they passed me I lit the cloth and ran for them. It seemed like an eternity, but it had to have only been a few seconds before we heard the thunder and felt the heat from the car exploding behind us. We stopped and looked at the billowing black smoke and flames that reached skyward, and began to let out a relieved laugh.

Then the zombie came running out from the flames.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" was all I could think to say as we took off running again. The zombie still plodded on behind us, but now moving slower, and the flames of the exploded gas tank had adequately set the beast on fire. We ran backwards while unloading our guns on the zombie, and finally it dropped.

We stopped running, the others were saying something but I couldn't hear them over the sound of my puking.

Josh ran to the downed zombie and screamed taunts at it, kicking it and spitting on it; then his legs gave out and he broke down next to the monster. Once my stomach was done emptying itself, I turned to Steve, who looked to be just entering shock. I put my hand on his arm.  
"C'mon man, stay with me here." Steve trembled but remained in control.  
"I'm sorry... I pissed myself..."  
"There's worse things." I tried to sound comforting, what we just went through would leave us all on edge for days. "We'll get you some new pants when we get to Blakesfield." Steve finally fell backwards into a sitting position.  
"Five minute breather?" I said through a very forced smile, it was enough to make Steve chuckle.

And there we were, in the middle of the highway, crying, puking and pissing next to a tonne of sizzling zombie flesh.


	7. Chapter 6: Blakesfield

**Chapter six: Blakesfield  
**The late afternoon sun was blazing down on us as we staggered into Blakesfield. We were greeted by more of the same; buildings boarded up and the streets empty, save but a few scattered zombies. My eye caught a thrift store boarded up, and I pulled on Josh's arm.  
"Steve needs new pants, quick detour." We were all too exhausted to argue the decision, Josh decided that he would prefer civilian clothes over his uniform anyways. Steve was looking rough, his eyes had a glaze to them after the battle with the large zombie, and we'd been rushed by three more attacks of zombies between then and Blakesfield. We all had minor cuts and bruises, but nothing that would hinder us; but Steve... he wasn't looking good. We got him some pants and dressed him, his responsiveness was fading. Josh checked him for bites but found nothing.  
"I dunno man." Josh said grimly. "If he's changing-"  
"He's not changing, he's just in shock." I interrupted; I didn't know for sure what the story was. Did you have to be bit to change, or was it something else? He seemed immune so far, but was that something permanent? We pulled Steve to his feet and both put an arm over a shoulder and dragged him out of the thrift store. A block away we saw a spray painted icon on a wall of a house with a circle around it and an arrow pointing down an alley.  
"Safe house?" I asked.  
"I hope so." Josh returned. We lugged Steve along, following the spray-painted icons.

We heard a faint coughing.

"Someone's around here! We must be close to the-" Josh couldn't finish his sentence as a long pink and gray tendril whipped around him and pulled him from us. I stumbled and fell to the ground as Steve's weight fell onto me. I quickly got up and saw a lanky zombie was pulling Josh towards him... with his tongue.  
"Sweet mother of God." I whispered to myself. How could something like this exist? I tried to line up a shot but the infected positioned Josh perfectly in front of him like a human shield.  
"Help!" Josh screamed desperately as the tongue seemed to be constricting him.

Then more zombies appeared. They ran from behind the tongued zombie, rushing past Josh and his captor and heading towards me and Steve, who still lay prone on the ground. I gritted my teeth and screamed  
"I'm sorry, Josh!" Then I squeezed the trigger and sprayed at the mob, the mob that Josh was lost somewhere in. My vision flashed back to those people in the bank, who died at my hands as I raked the small foyer with bullets. The people who died because I made a decision, a decision to create orphans and widows, a decision to end lives. Most of the mob fell from the spray. One more sprinted at me, I smashed it over the head with my spent gun and slammed its head into the brick wall.  
"Fucking help me!" Josh's desperate scream refilled me with hope, of all things.

He was still alive.

I dashed over the pile of bodies and aimed an uppercut at the tongued zombie. The impact of the punch cinched the teeth closed, cutting off its own tongue. Josh fell to the ground as I beat the monster motionless with my gun.  
"Get my ass up." Josh weakly croaked. I snapped out of my violent trance and left the dead infected, smoke steaming from its pores. I pulled Josh to his feet and helped him to Steve, who was bloating now. "Fuck, we gotta get his tubby ass up to." We dragged Steve further down the alley until we saw one of the poorly installed steel doors.  
"Don't move!" a voice called from inside. We looked up to see a girl inside, pointing a gun at us through the steel bars.  
"We're not infected." Josh grumbled to her. The girl cocked the gun and pointed at Steve.  
"You're friend doesn't look too good, what if he turns?" We kept walking. "Don't move or I'll shoot you all I swear to God!" Josh slowed down, but I kept dragging Steve.  
"If she had bullets, she would have shot us already." I assured Josh, and together we continued to limp down the alley.  
"Last warning!" she screamed.  
"Bitch," Josh began, releasing Steve to my care while he pulled a pistol of his own. "If you don't open that fucking door, I will bust my way in there and shove this gun so far up your ass that you'll taste the bullet I kill you with!" The girl went pale and began to back away from the door. "We've had the mother of all shitty days, now please open the damn door!" She slowly reached toward the door, and the sound of metal on metal echoed through the alley, and the door slowly creaked open.

Inside all we found was a terrified girl with an empty gun. As we made our way in she immediately backed into a corner and crumpled into a fetal position and began to cry.  
"Oh this is exactly what we need right now." Josh grumbled.  
"Shut up and put him down over there." I grumbled right back. We were all cranky but now wasn't the time to get pissy with the new girl.

That could come later.

"He looks like shit." Josh spoke in reference to Steve, he was getting clammy and had become very pale, his eyes still glazed and a cold sweat running down his body; he was still bloating, he looked like he was twice as big as he was when I met him. His clothes were stretching and slowly ripping from the strain of his expanding body. "What if he does turn?"  
"What do you suggest? We can't leave him out there." Josh paused and glanced around the room, then pointed at a thick water pipe.  
"Drag lunchbox over there." The pipe was on the opposite end of the room. We sat Steve against the wall by the pipe. Josh searched the piles of assorted garbage in the safe house until he produced a steel toolbox from the mess. "Knew there had to be some tools here to keep this place from falling apart." He fished through until he found a pair of T-bolt clamps and a screwdriver. He opened one up, looped it through the other, then closed it again. "Alright, hold his hands out around the pipe." I saw what Josh was going for, he had turned the T-bolts into makeshift handcuffs; now Steve could stay with us in the safe house, but we were safe just in case if he was turning. Once the clamps were tightened we turned our attention to the girl.

She still cried with panic, staring at us accusingly.  
"Don't hurt me! Please! I didn't know! I just didn't want to-"  
"Shut up." Josh spoke firmly, and she did, but she still cried. I sat across from her on the floor, my back against the door. He flipped a white plastic bucket that would normally be used for plaster, and made it into a seat. He sat in front of her, arms crossed and resting on his knees, leaning forward glaring at her. "Now here's my question for you: what's my motivation to not clamp you up like our buddy over there, throw you out that door and see how well you last the night?"  
"Josh, leave her alone." I had to step in, not out of chivalry, I just wasn't in the mood for this right now.  
"She wasn't gonna let us in!"  
"But she did, now back the fuck off." Josh raised his hands and stood from his bucket. He went to a ladder a few feet away that led up to a second floor where no doubt there would be sleeping bags and such. He climbed the ladder, grumbling about how there had better be good sleeping bags up there. We sat in silence for several minutes, the only sound was from Josh above us as he tried to settle down and sleep, and the girl trying to stop crying.

"Are you alright?" I finally asked; a stupid question, but an opener no less. She sniffed and nodded quickly, her eyes constantly darting from me to Steve to the ladder where Josh was upstairs then back to me. I stood and searched the coolers that were kept in the safe house for any kind of food, seeing as in the last two days I'd eaten once and puked twice. As I found a half stale bagel, I resumed my conversation with the girl. "What's your name?" I didn't look at her, I was clearly too preoccupied with my bagel and the search for something to put on it; a mission that was failed.  
"Carol, Carol Xing." I hadn't even thought to properly analyze her yet, so I looked over my shoulder and looked down at a tiny young woman; she was almost too skinny it seemed. I nodded.  
"Korean?" I tried to make conversation.  
"Chinese." she corrected. I looked back down at my bagel, then back at her.  
"Well, Carol Xing from China-"  
"I'm not from China, my parents are but I was born-"  
"Really? The entire lack of any accent had me convinced otherwise." It was my turn to interrupt her, I made sure to smile as I spoke. She forced out a nervous laugh but still looked terrified despite it. "When was the last time you ate?"  
"I haven't been able to-"  
"When was the last time you ate?" I repeated. She said nothing. "Fucking women." I grumbled, shaking my head. "Even during a disaster that threatens our very existence, we still have to force you to eat." I kept the smile on my face, but she still seemed terrified of me.

Not that I blame her, if she knew who I was, what I'd done...

"Here." I tossed her the bagel.  
"I don't want-"  
"Eat it." I pushed further.  
"Let me finish a damn sentence!" she finally snapped at me. "Who the hell are you? You guys just come in here! Threatening me! Pushing me around!" She threw the bagel back at me, had she thrown it much harder I wouldn't have caught it. I looked at the bagel then smirked at her.  
"That's quite the arm you got there." I don't know what I was trying to prove, I wasn't trying to flirt with her, at least I don't think I was; maybe I was trying to redeem myself, to myself. She nodded but still didn't move from her spot. I sighed and sat on the bucket across from her, tearing the bagel in half.  
"Come on, let's split an old, hard ass stale bagel." She finally seemed to relax and took the other half from me.

And there we were, exhausted and wounded in a steel box, splitting a stale bagel, not knowing our night was about to get a whole lot worse.


	8. Chapter 7: Steve

**Chapter seven: Steve  
**I just wanted to check on him one more time before I slept. We'd already taken his guns from him in case he was changing, or if he just lost it. I felt his forehead, it was clammy and drenched in sweat. He had stopped swelling, but now he was so bloated that he looked more like a ball with arms and legs than a human being. I sighed and sat by him; he seemed to be sleeping, but his breathing was sporadic. His IPhone was hanging out of his pocket, and I took it. Never really played with one of those things before, they seemed really just like a toy that made phone calls in my opinion. I looked through his pictures and found over and over pictures of him and a young girl, 13, maybe 14.  
"Your daughter." I said out loud, not that he heard me. I looked at him. "We will get you-" as I finished looking up, he snapped at me. "Shit!" was the most intelligent thing I could think to shout at the moment. Steve groaned and wailed as he tried to pull himself towards me, the clamps cutting into his skin as he fought against their hold.

The wounds didn't bleed.

"No no nonono!" I was watching him change after all. He wasn't bitten, we found no bite marks on him. We'd all been scratched so it couldn't be that, or why wouldn't we be changing? "No! Fuck no Steve come on listen to me!" Steve was on his feet now, awful moans coming from his mouth. He still pulled against the clamps and they tore away the skin at his wrists in return. Josh was coming down the ladder now, and Carol had woken up and had a front row seat to the trauma. "Steve come on it's Jake! Listen to me! Fight it!" Steve now foamed at the mouth and moaned more, each moan sounding more sickly than the last. "Damn it Steve fight it! Fight it for your daughter!" I held up his picture of him and his daughter, but he simply bit at it. I pulled my hand away and watched the last of the colour drain from his skin. "No! Steve come on you fat fuck listen to me! You are not becoming one of them! I won't let you!" I don't know what I was saying, what I was trying to prove to myself, I had no control over this any more than he did. He pulled again against the clamps, the one around his left wrist tearing through the skin.

The hand hung by a skant flap of flesh.

I looked at Carol and then Josh, then back at Carol.

"Get up top!" I shouted at her, she obeyed quickly as Steve tore one last time, severing his hand and freeing himself from his shackles. I held my pistol and pulled out the steel bar that held the door in place. "Come on, Steve, come get me!" He looked up at Carol as she hurried up the ladder. I punched the back of his head. "No, you fat son of a bitch! I'm the one you want!"

Yes Steve, come after the person who deserves to die.

I pushed through the door and out into the alley. Steve followed, moaning and biting at me. I led him away from the door and heard it slam shut behind Steve. He stumbled towards me, his intentions clear. Josh pointed a gun through the bars.  
"Get down!" he shouted, which I did without debate. I heard the snap of the gunshot, but it was followed by a resounding boom.

Then all I knew was darkness and stench.

I don't know what happened, but I seemed to be covered in some kind of phlegmy fluid. I couldn't see and all I could smell was a stench that I try to not remember. As I got to my feet, I could faintly hear one voice screaming and another one shouting words at me, but I couldn't even hear properly. I suddenly felt a hard kick or punch hitting me in the side; followed by another and another. I wasn't even sure if my shouts came out of my mouth, nothing made sense. The clubbing and scratching blows were overwhelming, and I was too terrified for rational thought, so I did the only logical thing I could think of; I curled up in a ball and waited to die.

I saw things differently now, suddenly it was daytime and I was on the floor of a bank, horrified as three men were spraying gunfire across the bank, killing all those around me; only panic and chaos was there to comfort me.

Sounds began to come back to me as I heard the pops of pistols above me, or were they behind me? The clubbing and clawing on my body seemed to be lessening as well, but I still remained motionless on the ground. Next thing I knew I felt hands grabbing me. I was so scared I thought for sure that I would die from fright alone, the scratching, hitting and kicking was one thing, but now something was actually holding me and holding me tightly. I tried again to scream but I'm not sure if anything came out. The hands pulled me up and I felt them dragging me somewhere. Backwards. I was being dragged back to the safe house, why would the zombies be dragging me there? My vision started to clear and I found I was being dragged by Josh and Carol. I again felt the cold, hard ground supporting me and the loud clang of the steel bar locking the door in place. After a few seconds I felt my clothes being pulled off me, only to be followed with freezing cold splashing over me.

Finally I came back to reality.

I sputtered out some of the water that Josh had splashed on me, even now he was refilling the plastic bucket from a hose connected where Steve had been locked up. I tried to speak but it seemed like too much effort, and Josh splashed me again.  
"Enough!" I managed to shout. I flattened out on the floor, I was exhausted, sitting up even felt like it would be too much. Carol was hosing down my clothes, and Steve's hand still lay on the floor.  
"How you feeling?" Josh asked. I did manage to get to my feet and staggered towards them; they both looked uneasy as I approached.  
"First thing, let's get rid of this." I bent down to pick up Steve's hand.  
"What if it attacks you?" Carol warned, putting out her hand but not touching me.  
"Oh I've had so much fun already today, why not see if I can get a little more?" I picked up the hand, which was docile, and I threw it out between the bars. "Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to sleep now, thanks."

And there I was, freezing cold, soaking wet and buck naked in front of two strangers who were cleaning zombie juice out of my clothes.


	9. Chapter 8: Weapons

**Chapter eight: Weapons  
**I woke up to Josh and Carol sitting over me.  
"Couldn't be bothered to tie me to a water pipe?" I greeted, still half asleep; I'd slept remarkably well that night, likely due more to exhaustion than relaxation I'm sure.  
"Still an asshole, he's okay." Josh smiled. Carol brought me my clothes, they were still a little damp, but at least they were zombie-free.  
"What the hell was that last night?" Carol said, I guessed in reference to Steve.  
"He was one of us."  
"How the hell did he turn?" Josh now was serious. "He wasn't bitten or anything."  
"I don't know." I admitted, "In all honesty I'd been living under a rock when the infection began." Stupid stupid stupid! I couldn't believe I said that! Thank God they didn't inquire any further. Carol picked up Steve's IPhone and pushed some buttons.  
"Last I read, the infection doesn't just travel through contact, but it's also airborne."  
"Oh that's comforting." Josh sneered.  
"So what happened with Steve..." she paused as she handed Josh the IPhone, a website was on the screen, I peeked around his arm at the screen. "Is that he wasn't immune after all, he just had been away from the initial infection. Obviously he came into contact with an infected area at some point, and that's what turned him."  
"How long does the change take?" I asked, finally deciding to get dressed.  
"I don't know." Carol admitted, taking the IPhone back and scrolling along the screen. "Some reports say a few days, other reports have said a few minutes."  
"There are different kinds of those monsters though," Josh butt in, "How does that happen?" I found myself agreeing. Funny isn't it? After my crimes, I still had the nerve to call those outside "monsters".  
"That's what I'm looking for, the site updates as much as they can but without having time to research these things, a lot of reports are just speculation."  
"So what the hell happened last night?" I finally blurted, "You tell me to get down, next thing I know... I didn't know what happened."  
"Yeah." Josh nodded. "I shot Steve, and he just... popped."  
"Popped?"  
"Yeah."  
"It was gross." Carol offered, I don't even know how dirty the look was that I gave her.  
"I noticed, thanks."  
"So this goop flies out of him and all over you," Josh continued, "You were covered, next thing we see is zombies coming from God only knows where. They were coming from nowhere, they just kept swarming out of everywhere and were heading directly for you. We tried shooting them off, but they just kept coming, so we came out and dragged your ass back in here." I nodded, thankful that two good people would come back for me.  
"Thanks."

I was dressed now, Carol still fidgeted with the phone, but we had to get moving.  
"Take the phone with you, if we stay here we have a better chance at starving to death than we do getting rescued."  
"If there's even anyone left to rescue us." Josh added. Carol surprisingly let up no argument. Josh now pointed at a few places on the walls. "These postings claim that there are weapons caches around the town, Carol, you know your way around?" Carol nodded and read the postings. She pointed at a scribble in red marker.  
"This place is only a few blocks away, we can jog there in ten minutes."  
"Then let's head there." I handed Carol the last automatic, as well as the automatic pistol from Timmins. "Note the other caches as well, just in case."  
"Good call." Josh went for Steve's shotgun as he spoke, then sighed. "Let's leave this here, just in case the next people need it more than we do." With nods all around, we set out.

The morning was foggy. The density was so thick that we couldn't jog as planned without risking running into unseen dangers. We maintained a brisk walking speed, we wanted so badly to run, but as it was we could only see the occasional straggling infected when it was almost on top of us.  
"The sun will burn off the fog when it gets a little higher." Carol tried to comfort us, but it was obvious she wanted to just run as much as we did. Slow and steady we went, what could have been a ten minute jog wound up being almost twenty minutes. We were fortunate that we crossed only a handful of zombies, but that still didn't improve our spirits when we got to the cache. A metal door with a gun spray-painted on it gave us relief, but when we opened the door and found the room empty, those hopes died. The final insult waited for us, letters written on the wall in black marker about a foot tall taunted us, saying "better you than me". Whoever came before us had taken everything but the light bulb in the ceiling and four spent shotgun shells that lay discarded on the floor.  
"Fucking sons of bitches!" Josh screamed, kicking the wooden table where dust lines showed weapons recently rested. "Couldn't leave us one fucking gun!"  
"There's still two more caches." Carol reminded, doing her best to sound calm; she was a different woman today than the terrified girl we found the night before. "The next one's supposed to be in a Rocket Burger a few blocks from here."  
"Then let's go there, hopefully the greedy asshole didn't get there before us to."

We made our way back out to the main street, the fog now lifting well enough for us to jog without fear of zombies running at us unseen. A loud hacking sound filled the air; Josh froze.  
"Not another one." His voice trembled as he spoke, remembering his encounter the night before.  
"Stay together." was all I could think to say, my wisdom of the obvious never failing to amaze me. Before anyone could even agree, one of those tendrils, that tongue, just wrapped around Carol and pulled her back behind us. Her scream made our ears ring, but we were more focused on trying to shoot the zombie that pulled her than our hearing. A bullet went wide, I blamed Josh, in return he blamed me. It didn't matter whose shot it was, all that mattered was that it went wide and hit the car next to the infected.

Then the alarm went off.

"Oh come the fuck on!" Josh screamed at me, I couldn't think of anything witty to say so I focused on shooting the zombie that had Carol. She was too close to him, so we charged them. Josh got to her first, I was being slowed down by something hitting me. I turned and saw a horde of zombies running right at us.

My focus became two things: shoot as many as I could, and keep my bladder and bowels in check.

I heard a loud gasp and saw wafts of smoke in my peripheral vision, followed by coughing from Josh and Carol. I quickly risked a glance to see that they were fine all points considering; they stood in a cloud of green smoke, but otherwise they seemed unharmed. We gunned down the last of the charging horde and regrouped.  
"When we get to Mission, I'm gonna kill you myself." Josh sneered at me.  
"Me?!" I had no problem shouting back. "You're the one that shot the car, asshole!"  
"Bullshit I did!"  
"Bullshit's all you've done!"  
"Stop it!" Carol screamed at us both. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Come on, once we're out of here then you two can do whatever the hell you want to each other." She took one step ahead of us, "Oh and I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking."

As we crossed the parking lot of Rocket Burger, we were a trio of starving, weary and extremely edgy survivors. We were greeted with the familiar crack of a gunshot. We were too tired to even bother getting down.  
"Doesn't anyone ever say "hi" anymore?" Josh grumbled to us.  
"That was a warning shot." a stern voice shouted to us from the Rocket Burger, "Identify yourselves."  
"We're not infected." I called across the parking lot, raising my hands.  
"How do I know that?"  
"Because the one of us that did get infected is now laying in a heap in an alley six blocks from here." Josh now shouted. "Come on man don't pull this bullshit, let a brother in."  
"Shit," the voice called back, "alright get your asses in here, hurry now." We jogged across the parking lot.  
"Well done." I smirked at Josh. Josh grinned back.  
"See, you white assholes have no problem shooting one another, but we stick together."  
"Oh don't even start with that shit." I smiled now, Josh shared a laugh with me as we made it to the door.

Awaiting us was possibly the largest man I have ever seen. He stood about a foot taller than me, and his torso was as wide as two of me.  
"Hey thanks a lot baby." Josh greeted the man as we crossed the threshold, putting out his hand.  
"Yeah no problem." he returned, taking his hand and giving him a quick hug. We secured the door behind us and wasted no time with chitchat.  
"Please tell us there are weapons here." I asked. The man nodded and motioned for us to follow him.  
"Josh, Jake and Carol." Josh informed the man as he walked next to him.  
"Name's Patrice. Military. We got separated, for all I know my squad's all dead."  
"I'm sorry." Carol spoke up, Patrice looked over his shoulder at her and nodded. He led us to a back room. A room packed with crates of pistols and ammo, and automatic weapons that would punch a hole through concrete.

We told him everything, well, almost everything. We told him about Steve, the different infected we'd come across, anything relevant.  
"I'm impressed you've managed to make it this far." Patrice was ever so cool. He produced a paper and sketched on it with a black marker. "Here's what we're up against. Everyone's seen the common infected, they're no big deal, a bullet or two in the head and they're done." He began to draw a round sketch with feet. "The fat bastards, like what happened to your friend, we call them "boomers", their bile attracts common infected."  
"Found that out the hard way." I chirped in, Patrice nodded.  
"They get their bile on you two ways, they puke on you, or they pop when you shoot 'em, so keep these bastards as far away as possible. Those tongue assholes are "smokers", kind of a tongue-in-cheek name from the clouds of fumes that come from them, plus they hack like they have terminal everything-cancer. They seem smarter than the others, like they actually strategize, pick their shots." Carol and Josh both nodded in agreement. Patrice drew a crouching zombie. "These little assholes are a real bitch, we call 'em "hunters". Little pricks come out of nowhere and pounce ya then they dig away at ya. They're tougher than the others, but a few good shots will still take them down." I felt myself go pale as I heard the description.  
"I've crossed one of those before... it was the first infected I came across."  
"Shit, and you lived?" Patrice seemed genuinely impressed.  
"I... hit it with a van..." I confessed, we all shared a chuckle that eased the tension. Patrice went straight back to business. He drew a hulking mass.  
"Last one I know about are these huge assholes. They take a licking and keep coming, we call 'em "tanks" just out of the sheer punishment they can take and dish out."  
"We've fought one of those before." Josh nodded. Patrice looked at him.  
"Shit, how'd you take it down?"  
"We blew up a car next to it and set it on fire." Josh tried to sound calm. Patrice smiled.  
"Glad you crazy assholes are on my side."


	10. Chapter 9: Escape from Blakesfield

**Chapter nine: Escape from Blakesfield  
**"You're coming with us?" Carol sounded almost happy at the news. Patrice nodded.  
"As much fun as sitting here by myself, trapped in a burger joint has been, I guess I'll settle for freedom." I nodded at Patrice as I felt the weight of the assault rifle I'd chosen.  
"Military will be handy to have, keep us organized out there." Patrice looked at me like I was a germ.  
"When was the last time you saw a fucking 6'10, 320 pound tactician? Do I look like some wormy little dickhead who hides in a building and strategizes?"  
"Alright, fuck I'm sorry." I knew Patrice wasn't specifically attacking me, he was testing us, seeing how easy we'd crack; I wouldn't give him the pleasure. In addition to the firearms, Patrice had rigged up some pipe bombs with chirping timers and some Molotov cocktails. We were loaded for war; Josh and myself toting assault rifles, Patrice with an automatic shotgun and Carol carrying a scoped rifle; in addition to us all having some form of explosive and two pistols on us, we couldn't have felt any more secure.

"Closest safe house I know of is in Spears, it's a little out of the way on the road to Mission, but it's either that or run through the woods." Patrice's offered knowledge sounded more like an order.  
"For what it's worth, I'll take a detour over a blind death march any day." I offered, making my agreement known. No one argued otherwise. Patrice got our bearings, then directed us northwest.

We traveled not even ten yards when the chilling scream echoed through the streets.  
"Hunter." I breathed. We scanned the rooftops and alleys frantically, but saw nothing. Again we heard the scream, it was toying with us. I heard Josh's gun fire and I looked in the direction he was firing in time to see a boomer down the street burst into a cloud of blood and bile. Immediately afterwards came the slurping sound of a smoker, its tongue snaring Patrice. Infected came pouring out of buildings and alleys en masse.  
"I think not." Patrice snarled at the smoker, grabbing the tongue that half wrapped his torso. With a fierce pull from Patrice, the smoker stumbled out of the alley he was hiding in and staggered towards Patrice. Josh and I were focusing our fire on the stampeding zombies, and while I should have been looking for the hunter, I couldn't help but notice Patrice pull the smoker towards him, raise his shotgun with his other arm and blow the smoker's head apart with one point blank blast.

It was the most badass thing I'd ever seen.

The three of us blew our way through the infected, but we didn't know what the hell Carol was waiting for. The hunter finally showed itself, leaping from a third story window, aimed for Josh. The three of us opened up on it, hitting it enough so that it fell next to Josh in a pulpy pile of flesh and bullets. Then we heard the resounding boom of Carol's rifle. We looked at her, then quickly in the direction she'd fired in, just in time to see a second hunter's body falling from a roof to the street below. We all looked at one another; no injuries and a bunch of dead zombies.  
"Shall we continue?" Josh said between heavy breaths.  
"Let's." Carol agreed.

We now had means of running finally, though we packed more firepower, we weren't so burdened that we could only jog at most. Josh, being more slender than myself and significantly leaner than Patrice, kept getting ahead of us, proving to us that he was easily the fastest of us. Patrice and Carol both would take turns falling behind us; Patrice due mostly to his mass, and Carol, poor girl just wasn't used to so much strain on her body. Regardless of the setbacks, we'd been making good time, encounters had been small handfuls of zombies at the worst, and we could count on our hands how many special infected came at us. Within the hour we were at the city limits for Spears. The now familiar safe house icon had been spray painted on the city sign, with an arrow pointing down the main street.

We had no idea that we'd also be greeted with such a mob.

Without warning a car came bouncing at us.  
"Tank!" Patrice screamed. We knew it was back there somewhere, but all we saw was a sea of common infected charging us. "Shit! No no no!" Patrice screamed again, I turned to see a boomer puking on him, making him the target of the wave coming at us.  
"Circle around Patrice! They want him, not us!" I shouted, which we were doing successfully until Carol screamed. A smoker had pulled her from us and was clubbing on her back with his fists.  
"Help her!" Patrice ordered us, firing his shotgun blindly at the horde. Josh took one step towards her when a hunter pounced on him.  
"Get it off me!" his desperate screams made me freeze, at least I felt like I froze, my body somehow kept moving but it wasn't of my doing. I clubbed the hunter with the butt end of my gun, and it staggered off Josh.  
"Pipe bomb out!" Patrice shouted over the madness, the blinking red light and beeping tone of the bomb traveling away from us; the horde followed it.  
"Motherfucker!" Josh screamed at the hunter that had been on him seconds ago and unloaded a clip into it. I was too focused on running to Carol to see the second hunter that pounced on me. I squeezed my arms against my body and protected my face and neck with my hands as I felt it trying to slash me open. What felt like large knives tore into my arms, I felt the burning pain and tasted my blood spatter onto my face. A loud crunch signaled that the hunter was off me as I saw Patrice take a second swing at the hunter with his shotgun, caving in its skull. I didn't even remember my own injuries; adrenalin reminded me of Carol and her situation. I got up and tackled the smoker that held her. I gripped the slimy tongue with my right hand and pulled as hard as I could, it immediately went slack and hung in my hand, a stream of black blood flowed from the smoker's empty mouth. Pistol in my other hand, I mounted the downed smoker and fired three shots directly into its face.

Then all was silent.

Next I knew I was flying sideways through the air. Everything hurt for only a moment before going numb. I wondered if I was dead, but then I felt the concrete welcome me as I bounced a few times, and I realized I hadn't been granted the mercy. Carol screamed my name, at least I think it was Carol, the voice was high so I assume it was. I felt the ground rumbling beneath me, which spurred me to look up at what had just punched me fifteen feet down the street. The tank charged at me, fist raised and ready to come down on me.  
"Not today asshole." I somehow screamed, rolling away from the smashing fist. The impact, though it missed me, still pushed me a few more feet. I somehow got to my feet and pulled my Molotov from my belt. I heard gunfire, but whether or not it was directed at the tank I wasn't sure, nor did I have time to find out. Instincts, adrenaline, I don't know what but something took over because there's no way I could have dodged that fist again on my own accord. The tank punched at me but caught nothing but air as I dove away. I lit the Molotov with Steve's lighter and threw it at the tank's back. The bottle shattered into a ball of flames that poured down the tank's back. It screamed, whether it was a scream of pain, anger, I didn't know.  
"Towards us!" I heard Josh's voice, but all I saw was tank and flame as it wound up to hit me again. I didn't even have time to move, again I felt the sensation of flight and the agonizing crunch of the ground welcoming me. The rumble seemed further away, but was getting closer. Carol screamed, then Josh. Patrice shouted obscenities I'd never even heard before over the sound of his shotgun firing again and again. The world was out of focus but again somehow I got to my feet.

Ever notice how when death is inevitable, mankind is still too stupid to just accept it peacefully?

Through the blurs, I saw a glowing, fiery form charging at another large figure, muzzle fire exploding from it every second. I raised my rifle and squeezed the trigger, pointing at the flames. I soon felt no kickback and heard only clicks. The logical thing to do would be to reload, but adrenaline and logic have never been known to be good friends. I dropped my rifle and brought up both pistols. All I heard was Patrice screaming at me, asking me what the fuck I was doing. Another figure was now up and firing at the tank, but another lay on the street.

That was Carol, she wasn't moving. The son of a bitch killed Carol.

I jumped on the tank's back, its focus no longer on the other figures with muzzle fires but on whatever was stupid enough to mount it. I felt the heat of fire, but that didn't matter, right now I had to worry about arms bigger than me reaching back to grab me. I put both pistols against the back of its head and pulled the triggers madly. Flashbacks of the bank tried to get into my mind, but now was not the time. I felt the body go limp and crumble beneath me and I fell from its back. Next thing I knew I was kneeling on the street, a smoldering mound of tank lay dead next to me.

A hand touched my shoulder and snapped me out of whatever trance I was in. The pain politely returned to my arms immediately. My eyes focused to see Carol looking at me, she was alive.  
"You okay?" I asked her, just now being helped up by Patrice. She nodded, she was understandably shaken, but she got to her feet regardless.  
"We need to patch you up." Josh said to me, his hand still on my shoulder. I got to my feet on my own power and assured them I was fine.  
"I don't know about you guys," I managed to croak between gasps, "but I'm getting all funned out. Where's that safe house?"

And there we were, at the city limits of Blakesfield and Spears, knee deep in dead zombies but still somehow pushing on.


	11. Chapter 10: Tor

**Chapter ten: Tor  
**"Safe house should be right down this alley." Patrice said as he pointed at the spray paint. He was all but dragging me while Josh carried Carol piggyback style.

To say we were in rough shape was an understatement.

We heard crying from down the alley.  
"Someone's there." Josh said quickly, "Sounds like she needs help." We hurried along as best we could, I took my weight off Patrice and hobbled along on my own, both of us raised our weapons just in case. As we rounded the corner we saw a young girl huddled on the ground, sobbing and wailing. She'd been stripped down to her underwear and was bound in a straitjacket, her ankle handcuffed to a sewer grate to keep her from leaving the spot.  
"Don't touch her!" someone called from the safe house. "She's been bitten!"  
"And you're not going to help her?" Carol shouted, the girl was looking up at us desperately, pleading for help.  
"I'm documenting this! No one has caught the transformation on camera!" the voice shouted back.  
"You sick motherfucker!" Josh screamed, kneeling next to the girl, his hand on the chain that held her in place. "Give us the key to this thing and let her go!" Patrice and I made our way towards the door, a video camera behind the barred windows recording everything. I heard Carol behind us talking to the girl, trying to calm her; the girl said her name was Tor.  
"Stay back! This is for science!"  
"Fuck science!" Patrice barked, his gun up and ready to blast the man through the bars. I hobbled as quickly as I could back to Josh and took his Molotov, then went back to the door. I held the Molotov and the lit lighter at the bars.  
"You give us that key right now you sick fuck, or I drop this in there and we let you cook alive." The man paused. "I'm not bluffing, asshole." He produced a key from his pocket and held it out in a shaking hand. His hand passed through the bars and Patrice grabbed it. "Just take the key and unlock her." I was so calm as I ordered Patrice, I don't know why. Patrice took the key and went to Tor, I kept the Molotov in sight for the man inside. I heard the handcuff open and the sounds of the others helping Tor to her feet. Carol was still comforting her, telling her we'd get her safe inside and out of the straitjacket. "Now, open the door."  
"Are you-"  
"Open the fucking door!" I shouted at him, I would not let this man argue otherwise. I brought the Molotov and lighter closer together.  
"Alright alright!" he squeaked, the lock slid and the door opened. He backed away as we came in, but Patrice went straight for him and put both of his huge hands on the man's neck. The man sniveled and pleaded for his life. Claiming his work was for humanity. Patrice declared humanity wouldn't miss one psycho.  
"Patrice." I was still so calm. Patrice looked at me, as did this other man, looking to me for mercy. "Do it outside." was all I finally said, "This girl's gone through enough." Patrice nodded and pulled the man outside screaming and begging not to suffer what Patrice had in mind for him. Josh went out and joined them.

I was tempted to as well, but after my crimes against humanity, what gave me any right to judge him?

Instead I helped Carol unbuckle the straitjacket. Carol kept Tor talking, she sounded so weak, so famished. We were serenaded by the sounds of violence outside as the man pleaded for his life.  
"How long were you out there?" Carol asked gently, helping Tor bring her arms out in front of her and gently letting her flex and stretch away the stiffness.  
"Three days." Tor whimpered, she grimaced in pain as she moved her arms for the first time in days; she cracked loudly.  
"Poor thing." Carol sympathized, resting Tor's head against her chest and hugging her from the side. "It's okay, you're safe now."  
"Thank you." Was all tor could squeak out while I continued to unbuckle the back of the jacket. I got halfway down when I saw the bite on her shoulder, it was deep and looked infected. She was pale. I gently rubbed my hands on her back, making them seem to be comforting her and soothing her aches; she was sweaty and felt clammy.

She felt like Steve had.

"Carol." I said quietly, our eyes met, she knew what I wanted to tell her. She looked sad and let out a pained sigh, hugging Tor harder, as if trying to give her a last comfort. The pleas outside had stopped by now, Patrice and Josh having dealt out their justice. I put my hand on Carol's arm, half tempted to strap Tor right back up before she could harm either of us, but I couldn't. Carol nodded at me and released Tor. Tor looked up with confusion, her eyes clouding, losing all colour.  
"I'm sorry, Tor." Carol had honest anguish in her voice. Tor shook her head in denial.  
"No! No don't leave me! Please!" I led Carol out the door, slowly backwards. The guys saw us coming out and knew what was happening. Patrice closed the door and then sat, leaning against it, his entire weight keeping the door closed; the petite girl, maybe 16, 17 years old, would not possibly be strong enough to free herself. "No! You can't leave me! Please don't!" She stood now, wailing and sobbing, Patrice put his hands to his face and grimaced, even a hardened soldier's heart was going out to this poor girl. She struggled in the unbuckled straitjacket, trying to free herself fully of it. "Please! Please don't leave me alone! I-" As the jacket fell from her, we saw where I'm sure had once been soft, small, feminine hands, now foot long talons remained. Carol immediately hid her face in Josh's chest, we all covered our ears as Tor's wail of agony froze us all in our place. She stared at her new hands with fear that was displayed through her wails. She charged the door and slammed herself against it, reaching out to us, what was left of her no doubt reaching for comfort, but the infected side reaching out to harm; Patrice kept all his weight on the door, Tor would have no hope to make it even budge. None of us could bring ourselves to look at the poor girl, and her screams would no doubt alert more zombies.

I forced myself to look at her. I saw only colourless eyes that portrayed nothing but anguish. Her pale skin as white as her eyes, and even her hair was quickly losing any colour of life. Her taloned hands reached through the bars at us, but not close enough for any kind of contact; even Patrice kept himself just low enough to avoid her reach. Her screams were deafening, we would be flooded with zombies in no time, I was sure of it. I took Patrice's shotgun and slowly approached what was only moments ago a terrified girl... that somewhere deep down that girl very well could still be; I had to make this fast and painless.  
"I'm so sorry, Tor." I honestly felt pity for her, and tried to convince myself I was doing the humane thing.

One loud blast later, the alley was silent again.

And there we were, in an alley in Spears, hiding in a safe room where earlier that night I'd blown a teenage girl's head off.


	12. Chapter 11: Confessions

**Chapter eleven: Confessions  
**Patrice sat on the floor with Steve's phone in his hand. It had been an hour since he'd made a phone call to a military contact and sent pictures of the remains of Tor... before we dragged what was left of her out into the alley. No one had said anything since we'd come in except for Carol insisting to fix me up with what little there was of a first aid kit in the safe house.

The phone rang, Patrice answered.  
"Put it on speaker." Josh said calmly. Patrice did so.  
"Amazing news, sergeant." The excited voice on the other end said to Patrice, "We had no records of that kind of infected, I'm pleased to announce to you that you have discovered a new brand of infected."  
"Lucky us." Patrice mumbled.  
"When you get to Mission and get evaced, you will all be commended for your discovery of the infected we've titled as a "witch"." I grabbed the phone from Patrice. "Witch", they dared call an innocent girl, victimized by a psychopath and killed by a scumbag a "witch".  
"That was a teenage girl you motherfucker!" I barked.  
"Who is this? Identify yourself." The bodiless voice demanded.  
"I'm the son of a bitch that killed that little girl that you've got such a raging hard-on over right now." I felt like I was foaming at the mouth.  
"Now you listen to me and you listen good, smartass." the voice without a face snarled back. "Just because you saw her change doesn't make her any different from the rest, in the end she was a monster that had to be destroyed. I don't care if she was a gutter tramp or a fucking nun, they turn infected, they die, end of story. Now don't you go yelling at me because you've got a case of the guilties right now, you're the one that killed her, not me." I had nothing to say to that, I dropped the phone and let my head fall back against the wall. Josh and Carol both looked at me, what they expected out of me, I don't know. I was tired, I was ready for this to just end. Patrice picked up the phone and spoke into it again, arranging a rendezvous point for extraction; nothing else was registering in my ears, I didn't want to hear anything else. Patrice hung up and I faintly heard him saying something about one more town until we reached Mission, then we were to head to an extraction point and radio for pickup.

I honestly couldn't care less by then.

Carol was done patching me up, and the others tended to their wounds; something they should have done first, but they all insisted mine were worse. Josh broke the silence.  
"When we get to Mission... and I get home... first thing I'm gonna do is hug my little boys and kiss my wife." He had a distant smile on his face. Carol smiled to.  
"Same, when I see my fiancé I'm not going to ever let go." They looked at me.

I had nothing.

"Lone wolf to, huh?" Patrice said calmly. We looked at him and he sighed, staring at the floor. "I'll get home, and it will be right back to what it used to be: wearing a uniform and killing for that uniform." I smiled, I don't know why, but I did.  
"Funny, isn't it?" I began. I paused while they stared at me, so I continued. "People with so much to go back to, while others have nothing to go back to?" The smile disappeared, I felt it. "Why should someone who has something to go back to have to die, while people like me get to live?" Carol went to speak but I kept talking. "Steve had a little girl... and he'll never see her again... Tor had barely begun her life, and she'll never get to live it... because I made a choice."  
"Stop that." Carol said firmly. "You did what you what no one else would."  
"I did it because I was best for the job."  
"Bullshit."  
"Carol, you don't know me." I felt so exhausted, words just fell from my mouth. "I'm the biggest piece of shit you've ever met, I guarantee it. The fact that I get to keep living while good people die, it's a mockery of everything good and justified that our pitiful species tries to stand for."  
"I kill for a living." Patrice said sadly. "I murder people I don't even know, because my country tells me to, because I can't do anything else. What have you got that makes you worse than that?"  
"You kill for a reason." I sneered. "You can at least sleep at night knowing you're doing what you do to protect your country... when I killed... it had no purpose." I let one weak laugh escape, no idea why, maybe I was losing my mind.

The silence was deafening.

"So," Josh finally said, "you're a murderer."  
"Among other things."  
"That's why you kept dodging the topic when we asked you about your life." I nodded. They all looked at one another, as if they were judging me, choosing my fate, which would no doubt end up like the scientist out in the alley who had been beaten to death only a few hours ago. Josh sighed, and grimaced. Then stood up and walked in front of me. He stared down at me, I looked up at him.  
"So what's it going to be?" I must have sounded almost taunting to him, "Am I to join the asshole out in the alley? Beaten to death for the awful things I've done?" Patrice now stood by Josh, Carol still knelt by my side. "You're military, and you uphold the law, I wouldn't blame you for doing the right thing."

I think I wanted to die.

Carol now looked up at them with expectation. Patrice shook his head.  
"Whatever you've done before you met me don't mean shit, far as I'm concerned." he nodded at me. "Since I've met you, you've helped keep me alive. If I have to befriend a criminal to survive, then I'll stand by your side just like you've stood by mine." My eyes went to Josh.  
"When we get to Mission, we'll decide what to do with you then, but until then we look out for each other, like friends are supposed to do." Carol put her arm on my battered shoulder.  
"You claim you're a killer, but to me you've been a protector. I'm not afraid of you." I still said nothing to them, I just closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep.

"I've raped women while on active duty." Patrice confessed out of nowhere. My eyes opened to that, and Patrice looked at me, as if assuring he did not judge me.  
"Shit." Josh sighed, "I sell confiscated weed to teens when I should be turning it in to the cops." Patrice let out a half surprised chuckle as he looked at Josh.  
"No shit?" Carol looked nervous, then looked away.  
"I used to be a webcam girl." She confessed, the others gave a chiding laugh, informing her that she was still innocent by comparison. "Which turned into me providing a service where I'd have sex for money." She let out an embarrassed laugh as she spoke, clearly humiliated. "It was just to pay through school, but after I graduated, and realized I could make more in a few hours on my back then I could with a nine to five..." we all laughed at ourselves. For the first time we were all on a level playing field.  
"So," Josh started, "we may not survive a zombie apocalypse, but at least we've established that we're all a bunch of assholes." Now we laughed easier.  
"There's no other group of assholes I'd rather be with right now." Carol said through her laughs. Patrice rubbed his eye.  
"Here's to you, assholes." he raised an empty hand like he was toasting us, we all did the same and toasted our imaginary glasses.

So there we were, four assholes in a steel room, hiding from zombies, laughing when no one else would.


	13. Chapter 12: Almost There

**Chapter twelve: Almost There  
**As had become the custom, we headed out at first light. Four blocks away was a parking garage, which Patrice suggested we check, in hopes of finding a working vehicle. We were all still hurting from the night before, but only I seemed to be walking with a noticeable limp; I tried to keep up as best I could but any attempt to move at my usual pace failed. I hated that I was holding them back, but they showed patience with me.

Within minutes we found a car with the keys still in the ignition... yeah there was body in the driver's seat but that was removed easily enough. I climbed into the back, as did Josh. Patrice drove and Carol sat by him, as she clearly had the best knowledge of the area.  
"Quarter tank." Patrice announced as the engine roared to life. "Won't get us to Mission, but beats walking for a while."  
"Are we still too far out to cut through the forest?" I asked, no one spoke. "The forest, we kept avoiding it because we could get ambushed on foot, but we're not on foot anymore. If the forest if the shorter route, we should take it, maybe the car will make it at least to Mission's city limits." Josh broke the silence.  
"We could go for it, but it's risky." Patrice nodded.  
"If we take that way, we have to all be in agreement." Everyone nodded. No one spoke. Finally Patrice spoke again. "Anyone objecting to the forest?" Still no one spoke. "Forest it is, let's move."

I fell asleep in the back seat, waking up now and then from the violent bounce of Patrice running down an infected. As we neared the forest, I fished around and found a scrap of paper and a half spent pen. I scribbled a note onto the paper and folded it. I handed it to Josh.  
"What's this?" he asked, about to unfold it.  
"Don't unfold it." I said calmly. "If I wind up not making it-"  
"Don't talk like that." Carol snapped in.  
"If I don't make it," I continued, "then read that, if I do make it, then just throw it away." Josh looked confused. "Just do that for me, okay?" Josh nodded, meeting eyes with Carol as he pocketed the paper.  
"Yeah, yeah I can do that."  
"Thanks." I answered before falling back to sleep.

It seemed like only a second had passed, but apparently it had been half an hour. Carol shook my arm.  
"We're out of gas, we're walking."  
"How far are we?" I mumbled through my grogginess.  
"Mile or two out." Patrice said from outside the car, "Two and a half tops."

I got out of the car and almost immediately my head was soaked. It was pissing rain.  
"Thanks for telling me that." I grumbled through one last yawn. It was only noon and the sky was already dark. The wind was fierce, but thankfully to our backs. The weather didn't faze Patrice at all, as he remained the steadfast image of a soldier; the rest of us, on the other hand, were not so tough about it. Josh grumbled to himself as he hunched against the wind and rain. Carol hugged herself tightly with her gun slung across her back; her arms were goose bumps all the way up. I took the rifle from her back and removed my leather jacket. I immediately regretted it as the wind and rain froze my back, but it was too late to go back on my chivalry now. I put my jacket over her shoulders, which she happily put her arms through and zipped up.  
"Thanks."  
"Don't get too used to it." I said with a smirk, trying to hide the discomfort of the weather; she chuckled as she put the rifle over her shoulder again.

"Guys!" Josh called, full of energy. He'd run up ahead of us a bit to scout. We saw him around a corner and he pointed to a sign that had been pushed into the ground; a sign that read "Mission Creek, half a mile to go. Don't give up!"  
"Thank God." Carol declared, we all felt the energy to run, even despite our injuries and the weather.

We were home free.

At least, that's what we thought until we heard the low, savage roar of a tank.  
"Patrice!" I shouted, "Get on the phone with your people and tell them to have an evac team at the city limits, now!" Patrice didn't need to be told twice, yes we were supposed to meet at an extraction zone, but things just got compromised. Patrice was shouting into the phone as we still ran, but my damn limp, I was falling behind. I looked over my shoulder and saw infected swarming out of the trees; the tank's roar had alerted them to us. Patrice's shouts into his phone changed to a startled yelp.

A smoker had him. We didn't even have time to take a step towards him as Josh and Carol both got pounced by hunters. Meanwhile I felt the horribly familiar feeling of boomer bile showering onto me.

Never had I felt more terrified; we were fucked.

My body wanted to go into remission, to just panic and curl up like I had before, but I couldn't, not yet. I wiped a handful of crap from my eyes in time to find a blubbery zombie waddling towards me. I shoved it away and shot it once, bursting it into a cloud of gore. Hands punched at me, clawed at me, grabbed at me. I swung wildly with my rifle, trying to bat them away, driven by the screams of the others. I got a view of Josh and forced myself through the horde, I felt their hands tearing my flesh but I could deal with that later. I got close enough and kicked the hunter in the head, freeing Josh. He got up and shot the hunter quickly, then wasted no time blasting the one on Carol. As she got up, a stone half the size of my chest slammed into Carol and knocked her down.

I turned and saw the tank charging towards us.

Josh had shot the smoker off Patrice.  
"Get her out of here!" I screamed to the others, the horde still wanted me; the rain was washing the bile from me, but I still had enough on me that I was the target. I looked past the zombies thrashing at me and tried to hold my aim steady at the tank. I unloaded the clip, and it still came running. I heard gunfire from behind me, Josh was also firing while Patrice picked up Carol. "Go!" I shouted, but they wouldn't leave me. I felt my hip, realizing I still had Josh's Molotov. With one last shove I got the zombies off me. Another rock flew past me and I heard Josh squawk from the impact. I lit the Molotov and slammed it down right at my feet. The force was enough for the splash to cover the entire width of the path. Despite the rain, the wind helped the flames set the nearby trees ablaze.

I looked back to the others, Patrice holding both up.  
"Fucking run!" I shouted again. I unloaded my rifle into the zombies that crossed the flames, falling dead from either the fire or my bullets. They all looked at me again, but I was not going to repeat myself.  
"Thank you." Carol said weakly.

They finally turned and ran. The tank crossed the flames, catching on fire himself, the wind fanning the flames higher and hotter despite the rain.  
"Okay you son of a bitch, you and me." I laughed... I fucking laughed at the tank. I fired maybe ten shots before it punched me into the trees. I felt the heat all around me as the forest began to catch fire. The tank was coming for me, swatting logs and trees away to clear a path. I fired more until I heard nothing but clicks.

It kept coming.

I dropped the rifle and pulled my pistols; so help me I was taking this thing with me. The others would make it, the others had to make it; I needed the others to make it. I fired madly until both pistols both echoed with the horrible clicks of emptiness.

It kept coming.

I ran, trying to reload while I did so. Logic would have told me to run away from it... why I ran right at it I don't know. It hit me again, I remember the pain as I bounced off several trees before crashing to a halt. I forced myself up and led it back to where the forest fire was burning hottest. I reloaded one pistol and unloaded it again. The tank was right on top of me and hammered down on my chest with its huge fist.

As I lay on my back, surrounded by fire and rain, I felt nothing. I could hear nothing. I couldn't even smell anything. This was a fate long overdue for me, I was the kind of person who shouldn't be allowed to live. I weakly held up my pistol and slowly fired shots at the tank, and once all I got were clicks, I dropped the gun and was at peace. And as my fading vision allowed me to watch the lumbering lummox that was a tank stagger around me, then finally fall, succumbing to the flames, I couldn't help but feel thankful that I had at least been given the opportunity to be allowed some kind of redemption, no matter how small it was compared to my crimes.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue  
**Josh and Carol sat in the heated office. Blankets over their shoulders, warm coffee and a clean change of clothes comforted them. Patrice was in the next office being debriefed. He entered, the trio greeting one another with mournful smiles.  
"Any word?" Carol asked quietly.  
"Nothing yet." Patrice responded just as silently. "Rescue team should be returning soon." They sat in silence for several minutes.

The sound of a helicopter, similar to the one that extracted them from Mission Creek, could be heard landing outside. They all had hopeful looks on their faces as they looked up to one another. A rescue operative ran to their door and asked for Patrice to come with him.

Patrice knew what this meant, and silently came.

Josh and Carol were left again in silence for several minutes.  
"So," Josh finally said, "how did you wind up getting left behind and your fiancé got to Mission without you?" Carol smirked.  
"He took off at the first sign of trouble, didn't even wait for me."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah."  
"Asshole."  
"Yeah... I told myself I would break up with him if I made it through it all."  
"Are you? I mean the other night in the safe house you were talking all lovey and shit."  
"I was caught up in the moment, that was before we all started airing our dirty laundry. Yeah, he's so dumped, but I thought first I'd go to see him, make like I was going to hug him, then kick him in the nuts. I'll break up with him after that."  
"Good plan." Josh smiled.

A soldier entered the room.  
"Mr. Carter, Miss Xing." the soldier greeted them formally, then sat across from them. "The sergeant has identified what we found... I'm sorry, your friend is dead." Both felt the anguish, but neither felt surprise. "We found him in the woods." the soldier continued, "He damn near burned the whole thing down." He tried to make the death as heroic as possible. "A tank corpse was right next to his body, two more were deeper in the woods, they must have been caught in the fire that he set. Boomers, Hunters, Smokers... We're still waiting on the final body count, but for what it's worth, he took a hell of a lot of them with him."  
"And he saved three." Josh pointed out, the soldier fumbled and agreed.  
"Yes, that to." The soldier stood, saluted, and left the room.

"Well." Josh sighed, "I guess it's confirmed." He pulled out the folded paper given to him the day before. He opened it and read a simple message.

"Guys, thank you. I don't deserve friends, yet I was given the best three I could ever have. If you're reading this, then I'm dead, but don't mourn, please. You all gave me my life back, and for that I would gladly die for you all." Both their eyes welled up.

"I want the three of you to do me one last favour, however." the note continued, "Take a shovel and go to the Busy B gas station at the city limits of Rittina and Timmins Wharf. Go behind the station and head out into the woods about twenty feet, look for a mound of freshly dug soil and start digging.  
Enjoy.  
With love: Tom Jenson/Jake Delwin"


End file.
